Butterfly Reign

19. Don't Need You

"What's the- how is-'' a breath, a quick moment to recollect his thoughts. "Why are you here?" he finally settles on saying.

"I'm sorry that it has taken us this long. My friend had... a lot of opinions to share, since the last time we've spoken."

Dream smirks, a sheepish sort of curve to it that makes Tommy think of those many times that his family or Tubbo had been disgruntled with him for doing something foolish. He produces a timid smile of his own. "I hope that nothing has happened to put you on bad terms."

"However heated the argument was, we agreed to disagree," Dream says. "I thought you'd be preparing to rest by now so I sent Prince to you instead. He returned quickly and seemed alert, so I got worried and decided to check up on you."

Tommy scrunches his nose up. "Pardon me, I don't think that I've heard you right. You said you were worried- about whom, again?"

"You, Theseus," Dream says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

It's not. Tommy's frown grows so deep that his entire face resembles a shriveled grape. He feels like a fool incapable of following a conversation, but when his options are between that and gawking at Dream like a complete idiot, Tommy would much rather pretend that those two words don't launch him into utter confusion.

Tommy takes a moment to look around: with the reading lamp on the verge of flickering out, shadows cluster under armchairs and loveseats. Tommy wouldn't even notice Sapnap standing there, heel and back propped against a wall, if it wasn't for him quietly whistling a tune under his breath.

When their eyes meet, Sapnap retrieves one his arm from where it was crossed on his chest and waves. The hour is late, and yet both he and Dream came looking for Tommy from half across the palace just because he missed a visit from Prince.

"Well, you can see that I'm fine now," he blurts out, shuffling the mess of abandoned paperwork into his arms. "No need to further bother with-"

Tommy springs to his feet. His legs decidedly don't like that. Sore from hours of sitting in the same position, they give up on existence, sending Tommy crashing face-forward. He has one split second to say goodbye to his dignity and brace himself to kiss the floor before he is yanked back upright.

Tommy clenches the papers so tight that his nails leave marks on them. By some miracle, not a single one had slid off during his fall. Belatedly, he registers the warmth around his ribs - it burns through clothes and has him jerking instinctively.

"Are you feeling well?" Dream asks, and the arm holding him is gone. "We can accompany you on your way back to your quarters."

Tommy opens his mouth and closes it again. He can tell when people ask something out of courtesy, or because they feel obliged to - he had enough experience both as the listener and as the one talking. This isn't quite it. If Tommy wasn't so doubtful of his own abilities to tell the truth and lies apart, he would dare to say that Dream and Sapnap's concern sounds genuine.

A late wave of dizziness dices in and his empty stomach churns. Spots of black dance furiously in his vision, the beginning of a headache pinching his temples. "I'm fine," Tommy snaps, and even his voice sounds gaunt as it rises just below the break. The guilt is immediate, but Dream does not seem offended or hurt.

"That's good," he says. And after a pause and an odd flicker in his eyes, "Do you want me to send Prince to you again?"

Fueled by a sudden impulse, Tommy looks up and blurts: "Could we go and see him together? I want to make up for not responding to him earlier."

Sapnap chokes on air. Tommy glances up to make sure that the knight is okay, but Dream beats him to it; his pointed glare and a frantic gesture send Sapnap turning away and coughing into his fist. Some unspoken words pass from one to another. Anxiety digs a pit in Tommy's stomach. It strikes him forcefully that he doesn't fit here, in-between two long-time friends, like a stick doesn't fit with two swords.